Fifty Shades Freed

and squeeze his behind. Gia gives us a thin smile.

“Have you managed to look over the plans?”

“We have,” I murmur. I gaze up at Christian, who grins down at me, one eyebrow raised in wry amusement. Amused at what? My reaction to Gia or me squeezing his butt?

“Please,” Christian says. “The plans are here.” He gestures toward the dining table. Taking my hand, he leads me to it, Gia following in our wake. I finally remember my manners.

“Would you like something to drink?” I ask. “A glass of wine?”

“That would be lovely,” Gia says. “Dry white if you have it.”

Shit! Sauvignon blanc-that’s a dry white, isn’t it? Reluctantly leaving my husband’s side, I head over to the kitchen. I hear the iPod hiss as Christian switches off the music.

“Would you like some more wine, Christian?” I call.

“Please, baby,” he croons, grinning at me. Wow, he can be so swoonworthy at times yet so aggravating at others.

Reaching up to open the cupboard, I’m aware his eyes are on me, and I’m gripped by the uncanny feeling that Christian and I are putting on a show, playing a game together-but this time we’re on the same side pitted against Ms. Matteo. Does he know that she’s attracted to him and is being too obvious about it? It gives me a small rush of pleasure when I realize maybe he’s trying to reassure me. Or maybe he’s just sending a message loud and clear to this woman that he’s taken.

Mine. Yeah, bitch-mine. My inner goddess is wearing her gladiatrix outfit, and she’s taking no prisoners. Smiling to myself I collect three glasses from the cupboard, take the opened bottle of sauvignon blanc from the fridge, and place them all on the breakfast bar. Gia is leaning over the table while Christian stands beside her and points at something on the plans.

“I think Ana has some opinions on the glass wall, but generally we’re both pleased with the ideas you’ve come up with.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” Gia gushes, obviously relieved, and as she says it, she briefly touches his arm in a small, flirty gesture. Christian stiffens immediately but subtly. She doesn’t even seem to notice.

Leave him the fuck alone, lady. He doesn’t like to be touched.

Stepping casually aside so he’s out of her reach, Christian turns to me. “Thirsty here,” he says.

“Coming right up.” He is playing the game. She makes him uncomfortable. Why didn’t I see that before? That’s why I don’t like her. He’s used to how women react to him. I’ve seen it often enough, and usually he thinks nothing of it. Touching is something else. Well, Mrs. Grey to the rescue.

I hastily pour the wine, gather all three glasses in my hands, and hurry back to my knight in distress. Offering a glass to Gia, I deliberately position myself between them. She smiles courteously as she accepts it. I hand the second to Christian, who takes it eagerly, his expression one of amused gratitude.

“Cheers,” Christian says to us both, but looking at me. Gia and I raise our glasses and answer in unison. I take a welcome sip of wine.

“Ana, you have some issues with the glass wall?” Gia asks.

“Yes. I love it-don’t get me wrong. But I was hoping that we could incorporate it more organically into the house. After all, I fell in love with the house as it was, and I don’t want to make any radical changes.”

“I see.”

“I just want the design to be sympathetic, you know… more in keeping with the original house.” I glance up at Christian, who is gazing at me thoughtfully.

“No major renovations?” he murmurs.

“No.” I shake my head to emphasize my point.

“You like it as it is?”

“Mostly, yes. I always knew it just needed some TLC.”

Christian’s eyes glow warmly.

Gia glances at the pair of us, and her cheeks pink. “Okay,” she says. “I think I get where you’re coming from, Ana. How about if we retain the glass wall, but have it open out onto a larger deck that’s in keeping with the Mediterranean style. We have the stone terrace there already. We can put in pillars in matching stone, widely spaced so you’ll still have the view. Add a glass roof, or tile it as per the rest of the house. It’ll also make a sheltered al fresco dining and seated area.”

Got to give the woman her due… she’s good.

“Or instead of the deck, we could incorporate a wood color of your choice into the glass doors-that might help to keep the Mediterranean spirit,” she continues.

“Like the bright blue shutters in the South of France,” I murmur to Christian, who is watching me intently. He takes a sip of wine and shrugs, very noncommittal. Hmm. He doesn’t like that idea but he doesn’t overrule me, shoot me down, or make me feel stupid. God, this man is a mass of contradictions. His words from yesterday come to mind: “I want this house to be the way you want. Whatever you want. It’s yours.” He wants me to be happy-happy in everything I do. Deep down I think I know this. It’s just-I stop myself. Don’t think about our argument now. My subconscious glares at me.

Gia is looking at Christian, waiting for him to make the decision. I watch as her pupils dilate and her glossed lips part. Her tongue darts quickly over her top lip before she takes a sip of her wine. When I turn to Christian, he’s still looking at me-not at her at all. Yes! My inner goddess fist pumps the air. I am going to have words with Ms. Matteo.

“Ana, what do you want to do?” Christian murmurs, very clearly deferring to me.

“I like the deck idea.”

“Me, too.”

I turn back to Gia. Hey, lady, look at me, not him. I’m the one making the decisions on this. “I think I’d like to see revised drawings showing the bigger deck and pillars that are in keeping with the house.”

Reluctantly, Gia drags her greedy eyes away from my husband and smiles down at me. Does she think I’m not going to notice?

“Sure,” she acquiesces pleasantly. “Any other issues?”

Other than you eye-fucking my husband? “Christian wants to remodel the master suite,” I murmur.

There’s a discreet cough from the entrance to the great room. We three turn as one to find Taylor standing there.

“Taylor?” Christian asks.

“I need to confer with you on an urgent matter, Mr. Grey.”

Christian clasps my shoulders from behind and addresses Gia.

“Mrs. Grey is in charge of this project. She has absolute carte blanche. Whatever she wants, it’s hers. I completely trust her instincts. She’s very shrewd.” His voice alters subtly. In it I hear pride and a veiled warning-a warning to Gia?

He trusts my instincts? Oh, this man’s exasperating. My instincts let him run roughshod over my feelings this afternoon. I shake my head in frustration but I’m grateful that he’s telling Miss Provocative-And-Unfortunately- Good-At-Her-Job just who’s in charge. I caress his hand as it rests on my shoulder.

“If you’ll excuse me.” Christian squeezes my shoulders before following Taylor. I wonder idly what’s going on.

“So… the master suite?” Gia asks nervously.

I gaze up at her, pausing for a moment to ensure that Christian and Taylor are out of earshot. Then calling on all my inner strength and the fact that I’ve been seriously piqued for the last five hours, I let her have it.

“You’re right to be nervous, Gia, because right now your work on this project hangs in the balance. But I’m sure we’ll be fine as long as you keep your hands off my husband.”

She gasps.

“Otherwise, you’re fired. Understand?” I enunciate each word clearly.

She blinks rapidly, utterly stunned. She cannot believe what I’ve said. I cannot believe what I’ve just said. But I hold my ground, gazing impassively into her widening brown eyes.

Don’t back down. Don’t back down! I’ve learned this maddening impassive